The Key Factor
by RingLupine
Summary: Seamus Finnigan feels the stress of being an Auror, and has the feeling that something in his life is missing. Right then, a Dark Wizard Revolt begins to take form, and a young witch comes into his life.


**Chapter One: "The Runaway Wand"**

The skies over London were blood red on that warm, humid evening in April. The streets were still wet from the rain of the previous hours, and there were many people and vehicles heading to other destinations. Despite the occasional argument between motorists breaking out, the peace on Glouchester Terrace was kept. The flats stood like an old fortress against the sky; but were a good home for many a family or a college student. Its numerous windows and balconies covered with ivy were all symmetrical, enhancing the building's beauty. The rightmost room on the top floor belonged to a twenty-seven year old Irish bachelor, with a secret that he tried his best to keep from his neighbors; a secret that he was keeping very well, at the moment. The room, like all of the other rooms in Royal Court, was spacious and equipped with a stove, an oven, a washer, a dryer and a refrigerator. The living area was simple (if not stark), complete with a three-seat couch and a decent-sized television. The bathroom was small, with a toilet, a sink and a shower. Two hampers with dirty clothes were squished together in a small corner under the sink. There was one bed in the sleeping area, and the other bed was a Murphy that was kept right by the master bed. There was a small, glass orb on the nightstand, as well as a few rolls of yellowed parchment. There was a locked chest at the foot of the bed; it was battered, but durable. The latch was locked by an odd-looking padlock; it had no hole for the keys or a disc that could be turned for a combination. The flat room was quiet; no one was home, not yet.

The door opened, and a very tired-looking young man with sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes meandered into the room. He was wearing a pair of dark gray pants, a white Oxford shirt (the long sleeves were rolled up to his elbows) and a pair of shiny black shoes. He was holding a small suitcase and a long black robe, which was slung over his shoulder. He also carried a bunch of envelopes which he had collected from his box; all of them were addressed to a 'Seamus Finnigan'. He set down his things on the couch, opened his suitcase and pulled out a thin, wooden wand and held it in his hand.

"Of all the days for a pureblood supremacy rebellion…" he groaned, his voice filled with Ireland.

Seamus collapsed on the couch and muttered an incantation, flicking his wand. The cupboards in the kitchen area opened and one of the knobs on the electric stoves turned, one of the burners became red. He waved his wand again and a pan emerged from the cupboard, and it settled on top of the red burner. He waited five minutes before he lazily made his way to the refrigerator. After he opened the nearly-stuck door, he pulled out one of the cold bins and grabbed an already-open package of sausages and slipped the last two rolls of meat into the hot iron. They sizzled immediately, already turning a dark brown on one side. Seamus turned them over; his hunger was augmented by the savory scent coming from the meat. He opened the refrigerator with a sigh again and grabbed a jar of pasty, red sauce. He added a small spoonful of the stuff to the cooking meat, and the entrancing aroma of spicy peppers joined the mix of scents.

Seamus sat on the couch, eating his food with slowed, subdued enthusiasm. He was very hungry, yet he was so tired from all of his Auror work for the day that he could barely chew his food. The television screen was blank, yet he was staring at it expectantly; waiting for something to happen. His mind drifted from the fact that he was still living alone to the arrests that he had assisted his coworkers with today. He had seen many of his old classmates from his alma mater; he was not surprised to see Pansy Parkinson among the rebellion's troops, or Blaise Zabini. He soon finished his impromptu dinner and left the scraped-clean plate on the table in front of him, assuring himself that he would have a better dinner when he went to the Potter's house the next evening. He made his way to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, opened the door slowly and stepped out.

It was darker now, but the streetlights illuminated the roads. A cool breeze ran through Seamus' hair, cooling his skin, all the way down to his nerves. He leaned against the railing and looked down at the roads, which were alight with vehicles. A double-decker red bus zoomed by, and stopped at the edge of a cracking, paved sidewalk. His eyes traveled the sidewalk, from its weeds growing out from the cracks to a rather peculiar sight. A figure was standing not too far away from where the bus stopped. Whoever it was, it was dressed in a black robe, with a hood covering the head and face. A gentle breeze blew, and lifted the folds of the robe, revealing a small, rather ratty black dress and pale skin, revealing the gender of the stranger. The breeze stopped and the robe stood still again; Seamus stiffened when a pale arm emerged from the folds of the long, black silk. The woman's pale hand held a dark brown wand; her grip was tight as her hand and the wand were trembling slightly. Seamus' hands became icy cold, he opened his mouth to call out to the figure but he stopped himself. He did not want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself (or to the rest of the Wizarding World, for that matter). He ran back into his room, not bothering to close the glass door; he did not even close the door to his flat room. He hurried down the stairs, muttering curses under his breath. He bolted out of the building and ran onto the sidewalk. The strange woman was still standing there, clenching her wand in a death grip.

"Oi!" he said loudly. "What're you doin'?"

She heard him, and turned around to face him. Her eyes were a cold, dark brown; the hair that stopped to her chin was auburn. Even though he could see a little bit of her hair, Seamus could tell that it was extremely oily. Her nose had a slight crook, and her lips were long and thin. She was around his age, if not younger. Her eyes widened in shock, which contorted into a glare in a second. He saw her lips move, each movement pronounced a curse. She turned in the other direction and ran away as fast as she could, she did not notice when she dropped her wand on the sidewalk. Seamus ran across the street once it was clear of traffic onto the sidewalk, and picked up her wand. He saw that she was far away already, but perhaps she was still in earshot.

"Hey-!" he stopped, knowing that it would look suspicious that he was screaming after a running woman and waving a small rod of wood at her.

He sighed and dropped his arms to his side, realizing that it was too late to run after her. He looked down at the wand in his hand; it felt strange and wrong to be holding another wand. He felt weaker, less confident; even a slight attack of nausea invaded his stomach. He slipped the wand out of sight and crossed the street again when he deemed it safe.

Seamus returned to his flat to see that his door was now closed, and the old landlady, Mrs. O'Donnell was waiting for him in the hallway.

"Why did 'choo leave your door open, m'boy?" she asked in her Cockney brogue. "And why did 'choo run out in such a hurry? Could've been hit!"

Seamus was surprised by the sudden interrogation that Mrs. O'Donnell had launched, and tried to think of a plausible excuse quickly.

"I thought that I saw one of the escaped criminals…and me bein' a cop and all." Seamus said nonchalantly. "But it wasn't…"

Mrs. O'Donnell eyed him, but then left.

"I'll be seein' yeh later then." She walked slowly towards the stairs nearby, and descended to her room below.

He sighed, annoyed and unlocked his door. He stepped back into his room, and saw that Mrs. O'Donnell had touched nothing, for which he was grateful. He walked to his room, leaving his shoes strewn in the hallway, and crawled into bed after setting the stranger's wand on his nightstand. At least he had something less tiring to do at the Ministry tomorrow.

* * *

I've had this idea for a while, and now I'm happy to finally upload it after a few years of editing. Hope you all enjoyed. Chapter two will hopefully be up soon.

-Lupine


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